Haunting
by annaisadinosaur
Summary: "Really, Vic, what kind of murderer just closes a door? If that's the extent of its abilities, I'm fairly certain we can handle it." / Albus finds himself the tag along to another one of Teddy and Victoire's dates, only this time they're in a haunted house, that's actually haunted. Lovely.


Albus was starting to get _really_ tired of this. Only a few moments ago, they'd edged around the corner, and Victoire let out an ear-splitting scream. That darn Teddy had his arms on her shoulders and they were laughing like Albus wasn't there.

"Why do you _always_ do that?" Victoire cried, though she was still obviously laughing. "I can't take you anywhere!"

"Sorry, love." He gave her a little pat on the shoulder and they strolled forward some more, the floorboards whining beneath their footsteps. Albus followed, but bitterly. He didn't care if he looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum. This was the _third_ day in a row that Teddy had dragged him out with Victoire, and he felt like the biggest tag along in the world. He was considering spilling it all to his parents that Teddy always took him to lunatic places when he was supposed to be babysitting him. For Merlin's sake, they'd gone to Paris yesterday, and his mum and dad had no idea.

Today was going to be different though, Teddy had told him specifically. This house was the most famous house in Chudleigh, and no one lived in it anymore. Rumor had it that the house was haunted.

So far, though, it just seemed old and dirty. And it was travel-proof, meaning they couldn't Apparate out while they were inside. But that didn't deem it necessarily out of the ordinary. Albus had heard of plenty of people travel-proofing their homes from unwanted guests.

Albus ducked through a string of cobwebs, wishing he was old enough to take care of himself, or young enough to go to that kiddy place Granddad was always taking Lily. Or that he just had some friends like James that wouldn't mind him dropping round when his parents decided they were going away.

There was a movement on the opposite wall, and Albus flinched. Blinking a few more times, he realized it was just his reflection looking back at him from a terribly dusty mirror. Teddy caught his eye and laughed.

"You all right there, Al? Not too spooked?"

"Shut up."

The thing was, he didn't even dislike Teddy. In fact, Teddy was his absolute favorite cousin. Well, they weren't cousins in a real sense, he supposed, but that didn't matter. He was more of a cousin than Victoire, so that must have spoken for something. He always used to relish the time he spent with him. He was a really wicked bloke and Albus would never have the crazy imagination that he had. But he was a kid next to Teddy, and that'd become so much more apparent ever since he'd started seeing Victoire. Albus had actually guessed that she was the only reason he even still came round to the house, so that he could catch Victoire when she was visiting.

Albus walked up behind the couple and found that they'd stopped their exploring. Teddy's hands were tracing something higher up on the wall, an engraving of some sort encased in a few years' worth of dust and decay.

"Hey, brainy!" Teddy whistled. "C'mere, what does this say?"

"Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I can read one thousand year old text," Albus grumbled, but it was of no use. He crossed his arms and stood in front of what looked up close to be a family crest. The name was clearly in the middle of it, but he could only make out a few letters towards the end.

"There's a 't' there, and a 'w.'"

"You think that's a 'w'?"

"Well, what else would it be?" asked Albus, annoyed. He turned away from it and threw his arms down. "Look, this is dumb. Why don't you just take me home and come back before my parents do, and I'll never say a word of it."

Teddy laughed. "Not on your life, kiddo. Vic, you think that's a 'w'? Could be a 'u.'"

Albus groaned and tuned out the rest of their conversation. He could sum up his entire essence that moment in three words:_ I don't care_. The level that he did not care was astonishing. He was tempted to just curl up somewhere and wait until they were done with their cheap thrilling haunted house exploration so he could go home and sleep. But then again, he wasn't entirely sure if he believed there was a ghost haunting the house in the first place, and if it came after him when he was curled up in some odd corner of the house… Well, at least Teddy was good at magic. He was very grudgingly staying close behind the two.

Victoire shrieked something about a room full of paintings, and so the miniature group rushed on into the next room. After Albus had stepped into the perimeter, however, the door behind him slammed shut. The walls shook and dust rattled from the ceiling. The other two spun around rapidily, eyes wide, Victoire's blond hair spiraling around her shoulders.

"Al!" she shouted. "Stop that! I'm so easily frightened, you both are absolutely awful."

Teddy squeezed her around the waist, and kept his eyes trained on Albus. "Yeah, Al. You might bring the whole house down if you close the doors too hard."

Albus's eyes were wide. He glanced at the door handle, and then back to Victoire and Teddy. "I didn't."

"You didn't what?"

"I didn't close it. I didn't even touch it."

"Oh," said Victoire. "Oh, no."

"The window was open," said Teddy, quickly. "I'm pretty sure I saw the window open in that room."

"Was there a window even in that room?" asked Victoire.

"I mean… I'm sure there was."

Albus grabbed the handle and tried to force it open, but it was locked shut. Sheepishly, he said, "Either of you happen to have the key?"

"Oh, that's really funny… There's not even a lock on the door. Look!" She pointed, and then threw her hands up to her forehead. "You know, Teddy, I really hate you. You know how much I hate this sort of thing—and you told me there was no such—oh, Merlin, we're magical! If someone says a house is haunted, it probably is!"

"We don't _know_… I mean, if there was a window…"

"There wasn't a window! It's some bloody ghost trying to murder us, that's what it is!"

"Really, Vic, what kind of murderer just _closes_ a door? If that's the extent of its abilities, I'm fairly certain we can handle it."

When she started hyperventilating and Teddy had to instruct her to take long, deep breaths, Albus's excitement wore off and he rolled his eyes. Honestly, it probably was just the wind, and the door got jammed. It was an old house, right? Victoire was just _too _melodramatic sometimes. He almost wished it really was a ghost.

"Get your wands out," said Victoire in a gasping rush. "I'm not dying in a stupid old house! Not today!" She fumbled through her pockets and raised it up high, as if the ghost might be intimidated by a little stick of wood.

Albus raked his out as well, but kept it tighter by his side. Teddy was the last one to take out his wand, and instead only stood still with his eyes slowly growing wider.

"Teddy?" Victoire said. "What are you waiting for?"

"It's not, uh…" He felt down the side of his leg, and then checked the other, again. He flipped his jacket pockets inside out and then the breast pocket of his shirt. "I don't have it?"

"What do you mean?" she said. "Where'd it go?"

"It's gone. I swear, it was in this pocket. Oh, God. Merlin. What am I going to…"

"Is that it on the table there?" Albus said suddenly, and pointed to the stand below the skinny window.

He swiveled around madly. "Yes! That's it!" He laughed and skipped over to retrieve it, hugging it to his chest. "Gran would have murdered me herself if she had to buy another one."

"What'd you leave it on the table for?" asked Albus.

"Really, you're so _tiresome_, Teddy!" Victoire shouted. "You put it there? You're all about the cheap tricks. You're not even that good at them, honestly."

"I didn't put it there," said Teddy. And when he realized she didn't quite believe that, he insisted further, "Victoire, I swear. I didn't put it there!"

Albus, again, rolled his eyes. "Well, then who _did_?"

"I think we should probably get out now. Before the ghost steals my wallet."

"Not like you'll notice," sighed Victoire. "How about we look for a lower window, break it open and escape for our lives?"

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Teddy, promptly taking her hand and leading her into the adjacent room. "You coming, Al?"

"Yeah, just one moment. Gonna check something. How far up do you think this window is?" He had pulled the table up to the wall and was now standing on his tiptoes to get a look out.

"Very far. Come on, we haven't got all day and we shouldn't separate."

Albus pulled himself a little onto the ledge, because he was, frankly, a little short, and still couldn't see the ground. His muscles in his arms strained beneath his weight, and he grunted from the burn.

"What'd I tell ya? Isn't it pretty far up?"

"Hm," Albus mumbled, disappointed. His eyes wandered the length of the window, towards the strip of trees across the horizon. "I'm sure we could…" Albus trailed off. There was something out there, but he couldn't tell what. It looked sort of… human. Like a figure. But warped, too short to be an adult… But maybe not.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure we couldn't, and I'm not—"

The figure turned, and he could see, quite clearly, despite the distance, two red-shot eyes staring directly at him.

"Oh, _shit_!" Albus yelled, and his hands slipped from the ledge. He came clattering down on top of the table, swearing, muttering and gasping in a desperate attempt to collect himself quickly. A giant weight had dropped in his stomach, and his hands were now bleeding from the impact. Probably a splinter, too, damn it all—

"What, what was it? What'd you see?" Teddy called, rushing to the door. It was the last thing Albus saw before it slammed shut in his face.

"Al? Albus! Open the door!" Teddy was pounding at it, shaking at the handle violently, but nothing was happening. Albus could hear him throwing spells and even himself at the door, but it stood perfectly still. "I'll get you out, Al. Just wait one second, let me catch my breath…"

"Albus, are you okay?" yelled Victoire. "What's going on?"

"Just… just, let's… let's calm down," said Albus, trying to breathe. "Probably a ghost. Actually, definitely a ghost. I saw something outside. It didn't… it didn't look right, but just right enough."

"Is everything normal in there?"

"Well, besides the two doors that won't open? Peachy. A little cramped, though."

"Hold on tight," she said. "I'll go look for another exit."

"Oh, no you won't!" Teddy said. "We're getting Al out and then we're breaking down the walls, so help me Merlin."

Albus thought it sad how little faith he had in those two. He expected them to grow weary of their ambitious plans in a few minutes. They'd probably see it as a good time to snog. Oh, well. If they were going to do that, at least he was locked in a separate room, eh?

His eyes wandered the room idly. (If his frantic heart beat could be described as anything close to _idle_.) The room was relatively boring. There was a red faded rug below his feet, and a bookshelf in the corner that looked as if it hadn't been touched since the medieval ages. He ventured close to it and wrangled a few spines free from the line. They appeared to be books largely about magic; he recognized one as a book from school, actually. At the end, shoved tightly into the corner like it didn't want to be seen, was a small, leather bound journal. He flipped it open to a page in the middle.

_Mother says she's very proud of me, no matter my marks or what I choose to do when I'm in school. That's nice of her, I suppose. Because my friends are brilliant and I'm just Peter. I feel like I'm always the tag along, and I wonder if they even notice when I fall behind or don't decide to come round._

"Huh." Albus laughed. "I know just how you feel, mate. You oughta read my biography sometime."

_It's like I was meant to be the small, defenseless one from the start. I don't feel like I belong. I don't even really help on full moons. Sirius and James do all the work, and I just run around Remus's feet trying not to get myself killed. _

Albus felt his face turn white. "Hey, Ted?"

"Yeah? You still alive in there?"

"Obviously. Uh, see any more of those family crests in there?"

"Nope. Just a dining room. There's a window, which is lovely for when you get yourself out of that damn cupboard."

"Um, tell me. What do you know about this house?"

"Why?"

"It's important. It's obviously haunted, and I need to know by who."

"There was this family, uh, a small one," Ted said, faintly. "I couldn't find their name, but it was this wizard couple with a kid. He went to Hogwarts, a while ago. They say he was murdered twice. When he died the last time, no one wanted him. And so he came back to find his family, the only people that'd ever wanted him or something. But they'd died long before that. And so he's waited here ever since."

"How do you die twice?" Albus heard Victoire ask.

"Oh, God…" He swallowed, hard. "Well, I think I know who it is."

"Who?" asked Teddy, sounding as if he was moving closer to the door.

"The name Peter Pettigrew ring a bell?"

"Yeah," said Teddy, low. "'Course it does."

"Just found his journal."

"Bloody hell. The Pettigrew family lived in Chudleigh? I'm standing in the Pettigrew family house? My father's got to be rolling in his grave." Teddy let out a hard breath. "So, what do we do?"

Before Albus could even attempt to think up a ridiculous solution, the walls began to shake and a gust of cold swept rapidly over the room. A gust of wind rushed onto him and slashed the journal from his hand. He released it with a cry, clutching his wrist with his hand. Hot blood stained his skin from his stinging wound.

"Al? Al, what happened? What was that noise?"

The figure had returned, and those same red eyes stared intently into his. It was a man, not very tall and not very lean, with a mouse-like mouth and clothes that looked like they'd been grown in the dirt. He had only one hand, and there were dark bruises all around the underside of his jaw. He would not have known it was Peter Pettigrew if he had not seen the journal. He did not resemble the photographs Albus had seen when he was a child at all.

Pettigrew's expression was different from what he expected, however. It possibly startled Albus the most—his face looked softer, concerned, and he tilted his head to one side, like he was but an innocent twelve year old again. He reached his hand forward, and Albus stumbled back into the wall instinctively.

"James?" the ghost said, quietly.

Albus blinked. "No, no—I'm—I'm not James. I'm his grandson." He cleared his throat, trying to make himself be heard. "I'm Albus Potter."

This was apparently the wrong answer. His eyes then became enraged, and every feature on his worn face arched. He was suddenly a rabid animal, and the room began to shake with him, the window smashing open and the doors swinging back and forth like flags on their hinges.

"Albus!" cried Teddy, just as Pettigrew lunged towards him.

Albus began to wonder wildly how ghosts committed murder. He knew, of course, that they were capable, but he had never thought to wonder how… or why. Why? Because he resembled his grandfather? But maybe that was just it. Maybe it was because he _wasn't_ him. Albus closed his eyes. He was going to die fairly young. But if he thought about that for too long, he would grow afraid. So he chose instead to think that he was glad he got to spend a final day with Teddy. He could not decide if he got hurt in this world; no one could. But he could decide who hurt him. And now, he would forgive Teddy, for being a hopeless romantic that sometimes forgot about him. He'd gotten to see the Eiffel Tower before he died, hadn't he? He wasn't entirely useless. So that was it. He unclenched his fists and accepted his death.

And then Teddy screamed. "Get away from my cousin!" The sound of parchment flying made Albus open his eyes. Teddy was standing there, red-faced, in front of the ghost. "It's been long enough, hasn't it? Wandering around your old home, waiting for someone to love you? Go! You've been absolved, and all that nonsense! Don't you see what this is? You can have it. It's yours. Take it!"

Albus caught a glimpse of it, just before Pettigrew did. And then he went for it, and then room exploded with light and sound. It burnt like fire all through Albus's lungs, for five breaths of a second, and then it all vanished. On the ground was the parchment, lying open and blackened at its edges. Teddy stood, wide-eyed and breathless, and Victoire peeked her head into the room from behind him.

They all stood simply staring at the parchment before Victoire asked, "Do you really just carry that around with you all the time?"

"Yeah," he said, distantly. "It was my dad's."

"It was your dad's—you mean—" Albus was always pretty slow in catching on to things normally, but the ghost thing was a pretty good excuse, if anything, "—it was the Map?"

"Yeah." He went forward and picked it up. He tapped it with his wand a few times, muttered a few words, but nothing happened. Teddy blinked, eyes wet. "Well, I figured as much. Just some useless bit of parchment now." He let it drift towards the ground, and looked instead at Albus. He went and looped his arm around his shoulders, pulled Victoire after him, and started walking towards the door. "Think we're good to go now, eh?"

"Why'd you do that?" Albus asked, finally. "I mean, you said it yourself. It was your dad's."

"It's okay." He pat Albus on the head, and ruffled his hair. Albus caught a little smile at the corner of Teddy's lips, shared with Victoire. There was sadness in it, but something more, too, and Albus's chest grew warm. Teddy said, "I'd do anything for you. You know that, Al."


End file.
